Fragments
by ThisCatalyst'sPen
Summary: Raphael's first kill was entirely an accident. And so was Miss O'Neil's…Warning, Dark Fic


**A/n:** Thought I would try to breathe some life into this old story and see if it goes anywhere. I will remain cautiously optimistic.

Takes place before the turtles meet April, when they are roughly 15 years of age.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own TMNT. All rights belong to their respective owners.

 **Warnings:** Dark themes, violence, blood and gore, occasional swearing, and scenes some may find sensitive.

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 _-F_ ragments-

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 _ **The**_ sound of piercing horns and indignant shouts; the cacophony that was New York City, were oddly calming to Raphael, like a mother's lullaby.

From his perch high atop the rooftop, he had an undisrupted, panoramic view of the city, lit up brilliantly against the dark night sky. A tender breeze rippled through the air, feeling like a soft caress against Raphael's thick, reptilian skin. His bandana tails flapped gently in the air behind him, stirred by the soft breeze, two tails of scarlet lapping hungrily at the air. The sky was an ebony sea of drifting clouds, light pollution, and blazing stars with a hazy glaze, lighting a silvery path above. The full, argent moon was hidden from view behind a cluster of particularly thick, brooding clouds, but Raphael knew it was there. He could almost _feel_ its ghostly glow that lit up the clouds around it, painting them in eerie silvery light.

Raphael's bright, molten eyes drank in the sights hungrily, much like the golden eyes of a hawk, narrowed as it searched for prey.

He shifted, bringing his foot up on the roof's ledge, bending at the knee and leaning against it comfortably, his tense muscles beginning to relax as the familiar serenity of the city he called his own began to calm him and sooth his frayed and battered nerves. _Serene_ , that was not a word most people would use to describe New York City, but to Raphael, the word fit perfect.

He often came to this same spot whenever he needed time to clear his head, or to _'cool off'_ , as Mikey always called it. Out here, in the open city, where only the stars above were judging him, Raphael found that he was able to relax, and forget, for however briefly, that his life, for lack of a better word, sucked.

Raphael sighed in content and let the openness of the night sky above him calm him further. He knew he shouldn't be out here; his father had told him and his brothers that they were forbidden to go to the surface, and warning them that this world, the one right above their very heads, was dangerous, and not a place for their kind.

Raphael snorted at that; _their kind,_ or in other words, _freaks._

He had only been above ground a few times, and he knew the only reason why his father never said anything to him about his ' _topside excursions',_ was because he knew that going topside was the only thing that helped him cool down, and that it was better to take his anger out on running across the rooftops than on his brothers.

Raphael pulled out his shell-cell and glanced briefly at the neon numbers that lit the screen. It was getting late, and he knew he should start making his way back down to the sewers and back to his home. But he wasn't ready, not quite yet. He still had restless energy and mixed emotions fuelling the fire within his body, and the thought of returning to the shadows and safety of the lair made Raphael clench his teeth.

Opting to go for one more run before calling it quits, Raphael straightened and quickly took off, his arms pumping at his sides as his feet flew over the rough pavement in a blur. Raphael found that running was a good way for him to let his anger fade. He found that if he ran fast and far enough, the wind slapping his skin like a razor, and tearing at his mask tails like invisible hands, by the time he stumbled to a stop, body slick with sweat, and heart pounding wildly against his ribcage, he was too tired to think about what had made him angry in the first place.

So Raphael did just that, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, muscles burning, and chest heaving as he continued to run, eyes always scanning his surroundings as he made sure to stick to the shadows. He was a hot-head, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that he couldn't be seen, even if people only saw a blurred shadow, _a trick of the eye._

Lurching to a stop, Raphael sank against the ledge of the rooftop he was currently occupying, absently wiping the sweat from his brow as he fought to regain his breath. Tilting his head back, he looked up at the stars above him, wishing that he could be one of those stars, so he would never have to hide from the world again. He thought to himself, if people could find beauty in dead balls of gas and debris, than one day they might find beauty in him.

A sudden noise that was out of place with the rest of the world drifted to Raphael's ears. Raphael cocked his head to the side, holding his breath as he silently waited to hear the sound again. It came a moment later. The sound of hushed voices, gruff and very Brooklyn, footsteps, and was that…crying?

Slowly, Raphael turned around to peer down into the shadow-clad alley below, right where the sounds were coming from. His keen eyes picked out various shapes in the enclosed darkness, and his brain quickly processed what was happening.

Five men stood in the alley, mean looking, and shrewd, their eyes hooded in the shadows. One of the men, the largest one of the group, had his muscular arms wrapped around a young woman, a beefy hand clamped over her mouth, and pulling her tightly against his broad chest. The woman looked to be no older than twenty or so, her auburn hair falling in tangled strands over her face, as she struggled violently against the man holding her. Even from his perch on the adjacent rooftop, Raphael could see the fear in the young woman's blue eyes as she frantically tried to call for help.

A low growl escaped Raphael's parted lips, his muscles tensing as his hands automatically went to grip his Sai. Narrowing his eyes to deadly slits, Raphael got to his feet and was about to leap down into the alley when he froze.

 _What tha' shell am I doin'? I can't go down there, they'll see me, an' then I'll be in big trouble. Masta' Splinter will never let me go topside again…_

Raphael shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts as the pungent smell of arousal filled his nostrils. The men below had pinned the helpless girl against the wall, their grubby hands tearing at her clothing. Another growl worked its way free, Raphael's body starting to quiver with barely supressed rage.

 _I may never be able to come topside again, but I can't just stand by and let that woman get raped…_

Making a decision, Raphael gripped his Sai tighter in his hands, and leapt down onto the nearby fire escape, his practised movements barely making a sound. Scanning the rest of the alley quickly, and finding no more threats, Raphael leapt over the fire escape's railing, bending his knees to absorb the impact when he hit the ground.

Remaining in a crouch, and still undetected by the five men, Raphael coiled his muscles and leapt forward, spinning in mid-air to send a kick to the first man's stomach. The man doubled over, the breath knocked out of him with a pained grunt. Raphael quickly sent a punch to the side of his head, effectively knocking him out.

Alerted by the first man's grunts, the others turned around swiftly, staring at Raphael in shock.

"What is that thing?" The man holding the girl shouted, unconsciously taking a step back.

"I think it's some kind of gecko!" The man to Raphael's right said, quickly pulling a length of chain from his belt and swinging it in his hands.

"What, are ya' blind? I'm a turtle," Raphael growled, shifting into a fighting stance. "And I'm gonna' introduce ya' ta' a world of hurt."

Striking as quickly as a cobra, Raphael launched himself at the startled man, Sai moving in a deadly dance, as his muscles tensed and coiled with well-practised ease and instinct. The second man went down with a sudden cry, the back of his head on fire from where Raphael had hit him with the butt of his Sai. The third man growled, glancing briefly at his fallen companion before advancing slowly towards Raphael, swinging a length of chain in a deadly arc in front of him, like a shield. Raphael narrowed his eyes and growled, hands flexing and un-flexing on the hilts of his sai. He had to remind himself to pull back, to reign in his attacks. He didn't want to kill these men; he wouldn't be much better than them if he did. He only wanted to send them a message.

Weary of the chain swinging in the air in front of him, Raphael bent into a lower stance, slowly circling the man, like a deadly panther that stalks its prey. The man clenched his teeth, his beady brown eyes narrowing on Raphael and his twirling Sai. Gaining some bravery, though others might argue foolishness, the man leapt at Raphael, bringing his arm back and swinging them forward quickly to strike Raphael's unprotected side with the chain. Raphael managed to duck just in time, the chain brushing past harmlessly a centimetre away. Using the momentum, Raphael let his hands support him and hold all his weight, before pushing himself into a backflip, gaining some distance between himself and the criminal.

Raphael held his Sai by the longest prong, pulled his arm back and flung the deadly weapon, watching it arc and twirl through the air, before hitting the man hilt-first in the temple. The chain dropped from his numb fingers as his knees bent and his legs gave way beneath him. Raphael watched with a hint of satisfaction as he fell into an ungraceful heap on the rubbish-strewn ground.

Raphael picked up his thrown Sai, absently wiping the beaded sweat from his brow. His breathing was fast and a little ragged, his blood running high with adrenaline. Raphael had never felt like this before; liberated, powerful, and free.

Holding his Sai loosely, Raphael scanned the darkened alley for any more of the low-life crooks, when his eyes fell on what had drawn him down into the underbelly in the first place. A tall, ragged looking man, who looked like he was no stranger to working out, had a beefy arm wrapped around the girl's neck, pulling her close to him and covering her mouth with a meaty hand. His pale green eyes danced with mirth and lust, his lips pulling back into a mean smile, revealing a row of yellow stained teeth. Raphael bared his own teeth and was about to charge when something reflected in the moonlight. That's when Raphael realized the man was holding a gun to the girl's head.

Her eyes were wide with fear, and tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. The emotions in her eyes, fear, horror and desperation, all pleaded for Raphael to save her.

Raphael hated guns. Had hated them from the moment he had learnt of their existence. Guns were cheap weapons that held no honour or bravery. Any man could hold a gun and shoot another man without thinking twice. Raphael had always viewed it as the cheap way to fight, the courage-less way to fight. And now he was face to face with one, the glittering, sinful metal trained on an innocent girl's head.

"Let her go," Raphael growled, his amber eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Make a move, and I'll send a round of led to her pretty head," the man smiled, confidence radiating in that smile, confidence that only holding a gun could bring.

Raphael barred his teeth in anger, knowing by looking in the man's eyes that he was serious. He was the type of man who could kill a person without a second thought and go to sleep comfortably.

Raphael's eyes flashed around the alley desperately for anything that he could use to his advantage. He needed a distraction if he was going to save this girl. All he needed was a second, a second for the man's attention to be wavered, so that he would lower his gun a fraction, would relax his trigger-finger slightly. That way, Raphael knew he would have enough time to throw his Sai and knock the gun from the man's hands. It was a risky move, but at the moment it was the only move Raphael could make if he wanted to save the girl and get out of here alive.

"This a favourite haunt for ya'?" Raphael asked, moving his Sai discreetly so that he was holding it by the longest prong again; ready to send it hurtling through the air.

"You might say that," the man's grin grew, his eyes shining sadistically as memories of what he had done in this very alley filled his mind.

"So ya' thought ya' could kidnap a girl, steal her money?" Raphael growled his eyes trained on the gun, waiting for just that split second when the man would loosen his grip.

"Among other things," the man chuckled and Raphael felt a wave of white-hot anger fill him.

The man shifted, changing his stance into a more comfortable position. Raphael processed all this within a split second. The man's focus was fixed solely on him, his hand was relaxed around the gun, his posture was relaxed and his new stance made him unbalanced. It was now or never.

Almost too fast for the human eye to follow, Raphael launched his Sai with deadly accuracy at the man, impaling his hand with his Sai, rendering it numb. The man cried out in shock and pain, automatically releasing the girl and dropping the gun, clutching his bleeding hand to his chest. Raphael moved quickly, sending a side kick to the man's unprotected ribs. As the thug lost his balance, Raphael slammed his fist into the man's shoulder, hearing a satisfying _pop_ as it dislocated. Bringing his other Sai around, Raphael slammed the butt into the man's temple, watching his eyes roll up into his head as he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Picking up his Sai, Raphael wiped the bloodied weapon on the man's shirt, cheeking his pulse to make sure he was still alive. The police could deal with him now.

Straightening up, Raphael's eyes locked on the girl. Eyes wide with fear, she glanced down at the passed out man before breaking into a run, stumbling down the alley and towards the street, her handbag forgotten.

"A simple thanks would ave' been nice," Raphael muttered to himself, turning away from the fallen thugs.

The sound of a gun cocking behind him made him freeze. Raphael's body went rigid as he sensed a person behind him, the fallen gun cocked and ready to used, pointed at the back of his head. Raphael's breath hitched as he felt his instincts take over. Raphael didn't even realize he had moved until it was too late. It all happened in a blur, like he was just a spectator, and not the person in the arena.

Quicker than lightening, Raphael whirled around, pronged Sai glittering as he shoved it roughly into the throat of the person aiming the gun at him.

The fifth man, the man that Raphael had completely forgotten about, went rigid as the sharp point of the Sai tore into his throat. Blue eyes, the same baby blue colour as Mikey's, widened and stared at Raphael in shock.

Raphael felt the blood drain from his face and his own eyes widen in shock as he looked into the face of the _boy_ who had just dropped the gun from his numb fingers. Raphael watched in horror as this boy, no older than sixteen or seventeen, clutched at the gaping wound in his neck, his eyes dimming as he fell to the ground, a strangled gurgle escaping his open mouth.

The boy twitched, his hands turning red as he tried to stem the flow of blood from his neck, but it was no use; Raphael knew he had sliced the jugular vein. The boy emitted a low, strangled sob before his body twitched once, and then went still.

Raphael didn't move, his body frozen in shock as growing horror and realization of what he just did consumed him. Looking down, Raphael saw that the front of his plastron and his arms were covered with the sticky substance of the boy's bright scarlet blood.

"No," Raphael whispered in horror, the heavy coppery smell assaulting his nostrils. "No, no, no…"

Tearing his eyes away from the boy's dead body, Raphael turned and ran back to the nearest man-hole cover, the boy's startled eyes filling his conscious every step of the way.

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 **A/n:** Okay, you guys know the drill; favourite, follow, review, or continue on with your lives,

~Cat


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